


Please Blow Your Nose

by runningwater



Series: Feysand Things [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: College Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21649582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwater/pseuds/runningwater
Summary: “Please blow your nose, I can hear you from across the library.”
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Feysand Things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607200
Comments: 8
Kudos: 90





	Please Blow Your Nose

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not much of a writer but me sniffling in the library lead to me procrastinating and writing this. If only I had someone to come save me too

Rhys was miserable. He hadn't been able to breathe out of his nose for three days. Which was just perfect because he had four finals all within the next week and was currently buried in his sweater in the middle of the campus library.

His eyes drifted from his computer screen where a dense manuscript had gone blurry to glance around the study space. There was a mixture of groups murmuring to each other and solo students hunched over their various papers and laptops. He sniffled, wincing at how the loud sound cut through the quiet air but there was no other choice. He ran out of tissues hours ago and didn’t have the energy to make the walk to the campus store.

Resolving himself to a slow death, Rhys turned back to the dense text on his screen and sniffed again to stop the slow stream that threatened to creep out of his nose. One hand was tucked across his chest while the other scrolled through the pages he was supposed to be reviewing and editing. Another torturous half-hour passed where he alternated trying to sniff quietly, failing and giving up. He promised himself a hot tea from the downstairs café once he finished the manuscript and submitted it to his professor for review.

He tried to hide a particularly loud sniff by ducking his head, but it did little to muffle the annoyance. He contemplated putting his head down on the table for a brief respite from the text on his screen and the possibility to ease the building pressure in his head.

“Please blow your nose, I can hear you from across the library,” a soft voice came from over his shoulder.

Rhys startled, nearly falling out of his chair while he looked over his shoulder to find the source of his heart attack. A girl with golden-brown hair wearing an oversized cream sweater was offering him a pack of tissues.

She looked about the same age as him, and just as sleep-deprived. Another college student in the midst of preparing for the long finals’ week ahead.

“Thank you,” he whispered, reaching out to take the packet. “I’m sorry.” He did his best to look the part of the pitiful student. Her gray-blue eyes softened at his apology. “Don’t worry, that was me last week but I didn’t have someone come save me from all the glares I was getting.”

“People were glaring at me?” Rhys asked, his ears going red at the thought of the entire floor looking at him in his miserable state.

“Only a few, I don’t think anyone could glare at you for too long,” the girl said with a smirk, a spark flaring in her eyes.

Rhys’s blush worsened, realizing that he was wearing a sweater that looks like it hadn’t been washed in a week (it had been longer than that since he had last done laundry but didn’t want to linger on that thought). He winced at his disheveled clothes, wishing his had changed into something less wrinkled before venturing out of his apartment today.

The girl gave him one more once over causing Rhys to be more warmed than a cup of tea could do to him. “Good luck and I hope you feel better,” she said, giving him one more smile and walked away.

Through his cold addled mind, Rhys was able to whisper thank you one more time and turned back to his laptop, slumping in his chair slightly, hoping to make himself smaller in a visual apology to the other students that had been disturbed by his sniffling. He forced himself to focus on finishing his edits so that he could escape to the warm café.

After an hour of painstakingly going over the manuscript, he was satisfied enough to send it to his professor, confident that he would only need one more round of edits before it was ready for the final submission. He packed up his laptop and papers, hand pausing over the packet of tissues. _Is she still here?_ Rhys slung his bag over his shoulder and began to scan the remaining students. It was a fairly open room with no places to hide, and he couldn’t spot her golden hair. He frowned and tucked the tissues into his jacket pocket.

Rhys began to weave his way through the tables to the main stairway. As he was turning the corner, a flash of cream topped with gold ran into him. He instinctively reached out to steady the offending body.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” the person said, looking up to Rhys. He realized with a jolt that it was the girl. She seemed to realize at the same time that it was the guy who caused her to walk across the library to stop his sniffling.

He attempted to recover from the shock of running into her, loosening his shoulders and trying to work an easy grin onto his face to cover up his embarrassment.

“It’s fine, I was actually looking for you,” he managed to get out, reaching into his pocket for the tissues.

“Oh really?” she smirked, “Do you need me to save you from a mob of glaring students again?”.

“N-no, I wanted to return these to you,” he stuttered, extending out the packet. She looked at them and flicked her eyes back to him. “Keep them, I think you need them more than me at this point.”

“Oh, well, at least let me buy you a coffee downstairs then,” Rhys said, pocketing the tissues, grateful for the small gift. He had a feeling this cold wasn’t going to let up.

“Make it a hot chocolate and you’ve got a deal,” she countered, giving him a small grin.

“You’ve got it…” he trailed off, realized that he never got her name.

“Feyre,” she finished for him. ‘I’d shake your hand but I’m not ready to get sick again quite yet.”

He chuckled, “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, much less a beautiful lady.” It was her turn to blush this time. He reveled in his ability to cause her to change colors and wanted to do it again. “Shall we, darling?” he murmured, offering his elbow.

“A name for a name,” Feyre managed to counter, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Rhysand, but all my friends call me Rhys,” he said, offering his elbow again.

“Prick it is then,” she laughed, finally relenting and looping her arm through his.

He echoed her laugh and lead the way down the hallway to the stairs. This was going to be fun.


End file.
